Hellfire
by At the Heart of the Storm
Summary: It's time Ouran got put through their paces and who more qualified for the job than a Staff Sergeant of the British Forces? But is all as it seems? Is this solider of camoflauge really what he appears? You'll just have to find out. OFC pairing.


**It Begins**

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The motorbike roared down the street towards its destination, the sound of the engine drawing people to the windows. Students peered over each other's shoulders and gossiped back and forth to each other, trying to come up with reasons as to who the man on the bike could be.

Kyouya remained seated and typed at his laptop, well aware of who the visitor was.

Whispers filled the room, Tamaki being the loudest by far. It took him a while to realise that he wasn't talking to "mother" at all and was in fact talking to thin air. With that realisation came the knowledge that "mother" knew something about the man on the motorbike.

"Mother!" Tamaki's whine focused the entire room's attention on Kyouya, who in turn hid a sigh. Tamaki would forever be a pain in his backside.

"Yes Father?" Of _course_ he'd play along.

"Who is that man on the motorcycle?" Kyouya could see the other questions in Tamaki's eyes – was he a threat to the Host Club and if not could they convince him to join as a host. All the squealing from the ladies told Tamaki the mystery man would be a success.

"Gunnery Sgt Morris of the 4/73 battery. Special Observer. British Army." Squeals filled the room and Tamaki's eyebrows hit the roof.

"Is he dangerous?" One the of girls asked.

"How many people has he killed?" Another asked before the entire room started throwing questions at Kyouya.

He let it continue for a few moments to let them get rid of some excess energy that the stranger had caused before holding up his hand. Silence fell quickly.

"He is very dangerous." Tamaki's face became deathly serious at Kyouya's words but he reframed from commenting and waited for Kyouya to continue. "He's been trained in close hand-to-hand combat, escape and evasion techniques and can survive for long periods of time in unforgiving terrain." He paused and let this information sink in. "He has operated in Iraq, Afghanistan, Libya and Syria and has several holes in his file whose existence can only be linked to participation in Black Ops."

As Kyouya's explanation wound down people eyes returned to the window and the subject on conversation who was now climbing off his bike and removed his helmet.

His features were decidedly soft, feminine almost, but the combination of his shaved head and lithe body removed any notion from the observers mind that he could be anything other than a solider.

His stride was brisk, purposeful and surprisingly graceful. His eyes full of shadows and as deep and turbulent as the stormy sea. No movement was wasted. Each one thoroughly thought out, pros and cons weighed, before the movement was executed. In that way he often reminded people of a feline. Not something quite so tame as a house cat but more a panther or, strangely, a lioness of the wild. Angered, he was a force to be reckoned with – kin to an unstoppable force of nature.

He paused in his stride and looked up at the classroom where all eyes were on him and Tamaki paled while Kyouya continued typing.

The class made noises of surprised fear – squeaks and squeals – and dashed away from the window and the man hid a smile.

It was definitely going to be interesting working here.

The receptionist looked up at the opposing figure in front of her and swallowed fearfully. It was not that he was overly tall or extremely muscular, but there was something about his eyes. His eyes were so intense it was as though he could see past all the walls a person put up and get to the real you underneath it all. It made people feel vulnerable, and made him good at his job. The way he moved was a like a clear warning to all that you did not want to go against him.

His sudden warm smile disarmed the woman behind the desk, as he knew it would, and informed her to let the Chairman know that he had arrived.

"Staff Sergeant Lee Morris?" she enquired uneasily.

A brisk nod punctuated his next words. "Correct."

"This way please." The receptionist stood and exited the office and began to lead him down the corridors. He could see from how tense she was that she was uncomfortable with having him at her back. He tended to have that affect on people.

He took pity on her and was about to engage her in conversation to try and help her relax when she paused at a door and knocked. They'd reached their destination.

"Enter." A voice from within called.

She led him in, announced him and promptly left the room.

Sgt Lee Morris studied the middle-aged man behind the desk in less than a second, unconsciously deciding on whether or not he was a threat. It was a very sound negative.

"Please, have a seat." The Chairman gestured to one of the chairs opposite his desk and Sgt Lee nodded his head, thanked him and chose the chair that gave him the desk tactical advantage of being able to see, not only the Chairman, but also the entire room.

It was part of his job to find the most strategic observation point and he tended to do so in every social situation with out thought. On the job was something else entirely.

"I am glad you chose to join us and teach those of our students who are interested, how to fight." The Chairman was all politeness and politics as Sgt Lee sat blank faced.

"I will not teach them to fight, Mr Souh. I will teach them to defend themselves and others. And I will teach them honour." Sgt Lee corrected, the fierceness in his eyes momentarily pulling the older man up short.

"Of course, of course, please excuse me." Mr Souh suddenly realised that this was not a man to cross under any circumstances. "I take it you would like to meet your class?" At the Sergeant's nod the Chairman stood and led him out onto the grounds where he had requested his first lesson to take place.

His class stood waiting, all dressed in fatigues. He could tell straight away those who wouldn't make it and those who would thrive under his hand. Unlike his men, he had to be more gentle with these; they were not used to _anyone_ talking down to them but given time they would get used to it. They all did eventually.

Sgt Lee gave the Chairman no time to introduce him or call for the class's attention. As of now they were his to do with as he would. It said as much in his contract. If their parents wanted them to know how to defend themselves they had to give them over to him during his lesson time and trust that he knew what he was doing.

"In line!" Sgt Lee bellowed and everyone jumped, several of the girls squealing. They sped into action. As soon as they were lined up he stood a few feet in front of them and began. "During your lesson time with me you will do as I say, when I say it without question, do you understand me!" his voice was raised, his face set, everything about him screamed at you to do what he said.

"Yes, sensei." Came the feeble reply from a small number of the class.

"I _said_! Do you understand me!" He shouted and the immediate chorus of a louder 'yes sensei', had him nod once. "Good." His voice was low, a rumble of sound from his chest. "These lessons will be tough and many of you will not make it through my course. I will make many of you cry and take no mercy on any of you. If you refuse to do as I say you will be met with punishment and I can guarantee that it will hurt a hundred times more that what I am making you do. That is my first and only warning to you. This is unlike anything you have ever, and _will _ever, go through. You will address me as Staff or Staff Morris and nothing else, is that clear!"

"Yes Staff Morris!"

"Then welcome to Hell." He grinned evilly and a shiver went through them all.

He laughed gleefully in his head.

_This is going to be __**so **__much fun!_

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**Review please! Hope you enjoyed! xx**


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